


Creative Mending

by Duckducksloot



Category: One Piece
Genre: Awkward reader, F/M, Injury, One Shot, Pre-Time Skip, Reader is a Doctor, Reader-Insert, Suggestive Themes, Unconsciousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:08:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23457580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duckducksloot/pseuds/Duckducksloot
Summary: The citizens of Alabasta watched as Pell the Falcon sacrificed himself to save them. Out in the dunes, however,  all (Y/N) can see is a flash of light and smoke covering the sky. However, more questions come when (Y/N) finds a heavily injured Pell unconscious outside of her family's clinic. As she and her father work to save him, they are met with some... unique... challenges.Originally written for a Wattpad writing contest for Vizkopa.
Relationships: Pell (One Piece)/Reader
Kudos: 26





	Creative Mending

It all happened so suddenly. A blanket of white flashed across the sky, disappearing just as quickly as it appeared. What followed was the loudest sound you’d ever encountered. Deep and earsplitting, making your hair stand on end. _BOOM!_

You stood from your seat behind the counter in the mud-bricked clinic you ran with your father, shoved open the wooden door, almost breaking it off its hinges, and surveyed the skies hoping to find some sort of explanation for the mysterious sound. As you gazed upwards, you saw clouds of smoke splattered across the sky, casting shadows upon the dunes. You shouted after your father, still somehow engrossed in his studies. “Father! Come quickly!”

Hearing your voice, he rustled from the bedroom in the back of the building and joined you outside, passing through the front lobby of the clinic that shared its place in your home. As he approached, you lifted your arm to the sky, pointing at the odd smoke-clouds above. He in turn looked up to the sky, inspecting the scene before him for a few moments before replying. “Whatever it was, my peach, has passed. Dangerous, maybe, but it seems we are safe, so it is nothing to be concerned about. Pay it no mind. We still have patients to attend to inside.”

You shot him a worried glance, trying to plead for more explanation than you had been given. Your father returned with a stern expression plastered across his mustached face. Sighing, you began to turn back inside to resume taking care of the clinic.

As you walked back towards your home, another sound caught your attention. _THUD!_ You immediately turned towards the sound and saw a mound of white and black sprawled across the sand a few hundred feet away from the clinic. You shouted for your father again, but instead of waiting for his return outside, you started towards the unknown mound in the distance. Your approach was slow at first. You picked up your pace, however, once you realized that this mound was human. You ran as fast as you could towards the unknown person, tripping slightly in the unpacked sand in your haste.

Nothing could have prepared you for who you encountered once you reached your destination. A white robe decorated with black four-sided stars covered the individual. A matching headpiece was in disarray upon their head, covering their face. What struck you as the oddest and most distinct feature was the splattering of brown-stripped feathers that surrounded the individual. “Pell the Falcon?” you whispered as your mind flooded with questions about how and why he’d gotten here. Your shock quickly wore off, however, when you noticed how his skin was scorched in large patches, among other various injuries to his person. You reached towards his unconscious form and placed two fingers on the side of his neck below his jaw. Although it was faint, his pulse thumped beneath your fingers. You moved your two fingers to hover beneath his nose, feeling tiny puffs of air dancing across your fingertips. _“He’s alive!”_

For the second time that day, you ran as fast as your legs could take you, shouting calls for help as you bolted towards the clinic. Although a bit agitated with your father taking no notice to your shouting, you busted into the bedroom and quickly explained what you’d seen outside. Your father responded immediately, gathering a small bag of medical equipment as he raced towards Pell’s location. A rudimentary examination proved that Pell was stable enough to be moved to the clinic. With the combined forces of yourself and your father, you were able to bring him inside and place him on an examination table to begin treatment.

Your father completed his work methodically, cleaning and medicating his burns, setting and casting broken bones, and stitching the gashes that peppered his form. All the while, you stood by, bringing whatever supplies your father needed as he treated the Guardian of Alabasta. A few stressful hours later, all of Pell’s wounds had been cared for, and he was placed, still unconscious, in one of the few medical beds within the clinic. Even this, however, posed a challenge, as his large form barely fit. After a bit of creativity and a lot of patience, you and your father were satisfied with your work and left the room to continue with other business in the clinic.

The whole experience rocked you. Once the adrenaline had subsided, you had time to let your thoughts run wild about the day’s occurrences. What was that flash? Or the sound that followed? Why was the Guardian of Alabasta in your clinic of all places? More importantly, why was he unconscious and wounded? Were these instances connected? What the hell is going on? These questions kept you up through part of the night, but eventually your exhaustion from the day overcame your racing thoughts, pulling you into a much-needed slumber.

You awoke the next day as usual, dressing yourself in clean, white clothing, eating an adequate breakfast, and beginning your rounds at the clinic. Although you were no doctor, being raised by one certainly afforded you an abundance of medical knowledge, enough to act as an assistant to your father in the clinic. Typically, this involved distributing medication your father had concocted to treat various ailments, removing old bandages in exchange for more sterile medicated bandages, and helping patients maintain some semblance of hygiene and comfort.

While most of your patients tended to be easy to take care of, Pell presented a unique challenge. Taking care of a heavily injured, unconscious man was tedious. Most patients could lift and turn in whatever directions were required to re-dress their wounds. Pell could not. On top of that, he hardly fit in the medical bed, so rolling from side to side to treat him was out of the question. After considering your options, you decided it was best to try and sit him up to dress the different wounds on his back. How you would accomplish this, however, was still to be determined. You first tried pulling him up from the side, but due to your small stature and the angle the bed was situated, you couldn’t get it to work. Then, you tried pushing him up from behind, but found it difficult to even get a grip underneath of him to start. Every idea you tried seemed to be a failure. Another idea crossed your mind, immediately dusting your cheeks in a deep red tint. It would be possible to pull him up from the front, but this would mean that you would have to straddle him to do so.

A few moments passed while you tried to determine what other options you had to sit him up. Unfortunately for you, your creativity had been stifled from a lack of sleep. You gathered what little dignity you had left and hopped on to the bed next to Pell. Carefully, you placed one knee on either side of his mid-thighs, careful to avoid any broken or strained areas on his legs. You reached forward and placed your hands on his muscular shoulders, snaking your hands underneath of them. With a careful tug, Pell’s upper body began to rise from the bed, eventually coming to rest against yours as it peaked. You felt your heart beat faster as you realized just how close the two of you were.

_“He’s just a patient, (Y/N). You’re only doing this to treat him. It’s not like you had another option, and he really does need his bandages refreshed.”_

After a few seconds of mentally calming yourself, you started to undo his robe and slid it off his shoulders so you could reach the bandages that circled his torso. Starting from the back, you slowly began to unwrap the bandage, careful not to pull too hard and disturb the cuts and burns beneath them. In this position, you were able to more closely examine his figure. Multiple scars littered his toned back and chest, showing just how dedicated he’d been to keeping the kingdom protected for so many years. His breathing was still shallow as you saw his abdomen rising and falling ever so slightly. You gulped, realizing you’d been admiring his physique for a bit longer than necessary, and returned to dressing the wounds on his torso. _“I never realized he was this attractive.”_

As you finished wrapping the last of the bandages around his body, Pell’s head and shoulders started slumping forward towards you. You started securing the bandage behind his back, none the wiser to Pell’s falling upper body. It became quite apparent to you as you sat up to grab the medical tape to secure the bandage. His face landed directly between your breasts, causing a high-pitched squeal to escape your lips. You hastily taped his bandage into place and grabbed his shoulders trying to return him to his seated position. In your hurry, however, you pushed a bit too hard, sending him backwards into the medical bed, taking you with him. His back sunk into the mattress as you fell on his chest, close enough to feel the steady beating of his heart. Worried you’d caused more damage to his already injured body, you rapidly sat back up, silently hoping you hadn’t hurt him. A quick look underneath the bandages you’d just applied showed that you hadn’t worsened his condition, causing you to breath a sigh of relief.

You carefully removed yourself from him and started redressing his other slashes and burns, then checked to see that his sprains and broken bones were still being secured in the correct position to heal. After attending to these needs, you disposed of all the old dressings and left a cup of water and a small bowl of broth near his bed in case he awakened during the day. You then continued the rest of your duties in the clinic.

As midday came and went, the sun began to fall over the dunes. You completed your evening rounds checking on each of the patients in your clinic, ending with Pell. As you entered his area, you noted that neither the water, nor the broth had been disturbed. You began to worry as Pell had now been unconscious for a little more than a day. You remembered reading in one of your father’s medical books that sometimes those who are unconscious can still hear conversations and that, in some cases, conversing can help that person wake up sooner. You weren’t sure how accurate this was, but there didn’t seem to be anyone else to chat with, as your father mostly focused on learning new medical remedies and procedures when he wasn’t directly treating his patients.

You cleared your throat and began speaking with him. “Uhm…Hello, I suppose?” you began. “I guess I should introduce myself. My name is (Y/N). I work with my father in a medical clinic that we operate out of our home.” As you spoke, you looked for any signs of movement from Pell, searching for some form of recognition from him. “You’ve been here for about a day. We found you passed out in the sand outside of our clinic and have been trying to treat you ever since. You seem pretty badly injured, but I think you’ll be okay. Plus you have a couple of great people here to help you.” You started rambling about all the types of people you’ve helped treat in the past, even some of the more disturbing or gross things you’ve encountered.

Before you knew it, the sun had completely set, and it was time to check on all the other patients one last time before retiring to bed. You swiftly completed your nightly rounds and crawled into your bed, slowly falling into a deep slumber.

Over the next couple of days, taking care of Pell had become a part of your routine. You’d wake up and prepare yourself for the day, then go straight to his room to redress his wounds, hoping that you would find an awake and lively Pell each morning. Much to your dismay, however, you would find him still unconscious and would climb over his body to begin unwrapping and rewrapping his torso. While these actions felt awkward at first, you started to become accustomed to the somewhat intimate way you’d discovered to easily treat his injuries.

After treating him in the morning, you would always leave water and broth near him, just in case he woke up throughout the day. Then, as evening approached, you would go to his room and converse with him until it was time for your nightly rounds.

Speaking with him was cathartic. You felt no judgement when talking about how you felt about different patients you’d dealt with that day, or different wild dreams you had of traveling the world. Although he was unconscious, you felt that he was really listening to you. You would always check to see if he had some sort of response to your musings, but he remained still, although you swore that you saw some sort of slight movement in his hands whenever you would speak.

After a week had passed, you awoke in the morning and began your routine as always. You’d already started wrapping a new bandage on Pell’s torso when you heard a soft groan from the figure you were currently seated on top of. This caught your attention, and you quickly, but carefully secured the fresh dressing. You slowly laid Pell back down, using your hands to guide his shoulders towards the bed. As you started removing your hands from his shoulders, two large hands grabbed you by the wrist and held you in place. A weak, yet firm voice began to speak, causing your heart to skip a beat. “Who are you and why are you on top of me?”


End file.
